In Which Percy Does His Laundry
by DinoDina
Summary: Molly Weasley insisted on going with her son to the laundromat, but there's a problem. It wasn't that Percy didn't trust his mother with strangers; it was that Molly was overprotective and currently yelling at a rather attractive man. Percy/Oliver oneshot written for Last Ship sailing on HPFC.


**Written for Last Ship Sailing Competition II on HPFC  
** **Promps:** **2\. (word) direction,** **6\. (setting) a laundromat, 7.** **(color) peach  
Words: 1432**

 **Thanks to CUtopia for help with plot:** My mom caught you checking me out in the store and confronted you so now I have to save you from her wrath - also…were you really checking me out?' AU  
 **Thanks to Kage Kitsune and CUtopia for betaing!**

Twenty-four-year-old Percy Weasley trudged down the street after his mother. Despite his much longer legs, he was about a meter behind her, and walked with much less enthusiasm.

"I still don't see why you have to accompany me to the laundromat," he said once they had stopped at a red light.

"You may have moved out, Percy, but you're still my son." She gave a slightly exasperated huff. "Besides, you _told_ me you do laundry on Saturdays, so I don't see why I can't help you."

"It's not that you _can't_ , mother, it's that you _shouldn't_. I'm more than capable of doing my own laundry."

"I _want_ to."

And that was that. Molly Weasley was a soft-spoken and smiling plump woman, who always had a kind word and a hug for anyone who needed it. But having raised seven children, she was firm and strong, and Percy was much too sensible to further argue with her.

He sighed, conceding, and pointed to the right side of the road. "It's that way."

"Yes, I know, dear, I can see the sign." She smiled at him and led the way. Percy stayed behind her until they got to the laundromat, where he ran ahead and opened the door, causing Molly to beam proudly at him. "You haven't changed at all, Percy! Still a gentleman."

Percy felt himself blush—his ears turned a vibrant red, then his cheeks and nose—and ducked his head. "I've only been gone for three months."

"Well, when your brother left, he got his ear pierced and grew his hair out," she pointed out fairly. "And your other brothers quit school and opened a joke shop. I think it's fair to be happy that you didn't change."

Percy nodded. It was the second time he's moved out of his parents' house; the first time, seven years ago, they'd become estranged, though no one talked about that anymore. His mother was completely justified in her worries, so he didn't press the subject.

Molly, meanwhile, had entered the laundromat. She stopped a little to the right of the doorway, taking in the interior. To Percy, there was nothing to be looking at—it was the same as any other laundromat, probably better than some. Something seemed to please his mother, though, because she nodded to herself and carried one of the laundry baskets to a washing machine.

Percy followed with the other basket. He stood next to his mother and began measuring detergent into a small cup, which he quickly poured into the machine. Putting his clothes in, Percy mentally congratulated himself on being so productive so early on a Saturday morning.

"Percy!"

His mother's loud yell caused Percy to drop the peach-colored shirt he was putting into the machine. He turned sharply. "What was that for?"

"You're putting your whites in with your colors!" She shook her head. "I can't believe…"

"Yes?"

"Well…" She looked vaguely embarrassed. "I thought you'd be more sensible than that, Percy."

"Sensible?"

"I didn't raise you to stain your clothing every time you do laundry." She shook her head. "I think you _do_ need me here, after all."

"It's cheaper," Percy grumbled to himself. "And nothing's gone wrong yet."

Molly shook her head again. "'Yet'. I can't believe this. You should _never_ wash your whites and colors together! Even if the whites don't stain, they become duller."

"Alright, mother."

Again, Percy decided it to be fruitless to argue, so he bent down and picked up the fallen shirt, then began separating his whites and colors into two different washing machines. He turned to his mother to ask for her approval, but she wasn't there.

"What…" Percy trailed away as he looked around. He spotted his mother next to a tall dark-haired man about two meters away. "Oh, no…"

It wasn't that he didn't trust his mother with strangers; it was that Molly Weasley was one of the most straightforward women he'd met, and that she'd once yelled at a woman for talking to his sister, only to then realize that the woman was a teacher at his sister's school.

"Mother," he started, leaving his laundry and walking in their direction. "Mother, what—"

"And I don't care what your reasons were," Molly was saying, her face red. "There's nothing that gives you the right to look at my son that way! You don't even know him! Is it because of his clothes? Or hair? Or glasses? God knows Percy isn't the most fashionable person, but you can't just judge him based on that! You can't glare at him from—"

"Mother!"

Molly turned to her son. "Percy, go back to the laundry, this isn't—"

Percy rolled his eyes. "I know that you're protective, but _please_ … let me take care of it?"

His mother had been extra-protective of him since their estrangement had ended, and Percy understood that—and even _liked_ it sometimes, the fact that she paid attention to him just as much as to everyone else. He drew the line at her yelling at random tall and broad-shouldered brunets with lovely eyes because they had looked at Percy strangely.

Molly gave the man another angry glance, looked at her son with confidence that he would clear up the matter, and returned to separating the laundry.

Percy looked at the man properly and felt himself blush. This wasn't how he liked to look when he talked to handsome strangers.

"Right." Percy cleared his throat. "My mother seems to think that you've offended me—or her—in some way, by… what was it? By looking at me?"

"Yeah, but—"

"But I honestly don't care," Percy interrupted the man's Scottish brogue. "You probably weren't even looking at me—or her—just in our general direction. I have no idea what gave her the idea that you were hostile."

"I—"

"On the off chance that my mother was right, however," Percy went on, "I'm instructed to tell you that I have six siblings who have just as much impulse control as my mother. Now, since it was probably just a misunderstanding—and the less said about it, the better, I think—, I'm going to apologize on my mother's behalf and be on my way."

Percy nodded at him and turned on his heel, but the man grabbed his elbow. "She wasn't wrong!"

"Excuse me?"

"I _was_ looking at you." The man's eyes were a warm brown, and he was smiling nervously now. At Percy's raised eyebrows, he hastened to add, "Not glaring or anything like what your mum thought! I was… well, this is a bit awkward, but I was checking you out."

"Oh." Percy licked his lips nervously. "That's very flattering—"

"But completely unwelcome, I know," the man finished in a disappointed voice, hanging his head.

"That's not what I was going to say."

The man lifted his head, and his warm brown eyes now looked hopeful. "Really?"

Percy nodded. "And if my mother hasn't completely scared you away—"

"She didn't!" The man had to look slightly up to meet Percy's eyes, and he grinned widely before sticking out his hand. "Oliver Wood."

"Percy Weasley."

"Let me take you out for coffee while the laundry's going?" Oliver asked. "There's a café just down the road, we can be there and back in thirty minutes."

"I'd like that." Percy grinned back at him, then gestured to where Molly was sorting his laundry. "I'm just going to go explain it to my mother."

Oliver nodded, then he turned back to the washing machine and began feeding coins into it. Percy saw that his mother was doing the same thing with his laundry.

"Hey, mum?" he said quietly.

"Yes, dear?"

"Oliver and I cleared it up," Percy said, gesturing to the man. "We're going for coffee now. As a date. It was just a misunderstanding, he… well. You misread his actions, mother, and… er…"

"Oh, Percy, I'm so happy for you!" Molly threw her arms around his neck, and Percy could tell that even though she was thrilled—both at the fact that he'd gotten a date and that he'd broken his own self-imposed rules of formality and called her 'mum'—, she was embarrassed at her previous actions. She gave him a large kiss on the cheek. "I'm so proud!"

He laughed, delicately freeing himself from her embrace. "Alright, mum. I'll see you soon."

Percy walked back over to Oliver, who smiled. They walked out of the laundromat together and began walking to the café, their hands brushing against each other as they went.


End file.
